Chapter 76

Sword Empress (1)

The schedule of the Yongbong Gathering continued.

However, at some point, Cheon Muyang, who should have been at its center, was nowhere to be seen.

At first, people thought little of it—perhaps just a day away.

But when a day passed, then two, and he still did not appear, some began to feel uneasy.

"Where is Young Master Cheon?"

"Good question."

"He suddenly disappeared."

"...."

Amid the noisy chatter,

The group led by Namgung Sang-hyeok was not at the center of the Yongbong Gathering, but tucked away in a corner.

Naturally, those clinging to the Namgung Clan crowded around him.

"Young Master Namgung, it seems that butcher brat has gone into seclusion all of a sudden."

"...."

"He must have realized it. What kind of thing he's done."

Every one of them harbored discontent.

Because the meaning of their invitations had been lost.

"Indeed. A Yongbong Gathering this disorderly and chaotic—I've never heard of such a thing."

"This isn't a marketplace."

They clicked their tongues as though lamenting the collapse of tradition.

Yet at the center of it all, Namgung Sang-hyeok wore a greasy smile.

"But in the end, they'll understand."

Glance.

Namgung Sang-hyeok's eyes briefly turned toward where the disciples of the Nine Great Sects had gathered.

Hougae and Cheongjin mingled freely, regardless of whether their robes were bronze or silver, along with the disciples of the Nine Great Sects who shared their views.

Hougae himself was nowhere to be seen.

"They'll learn that people can only associate with others of their own standing."

Namgung Sang-hyeok sneered at them.

In the end, the conclusion would be decided in the martial contest on the final day of the Yongbong Gathering.

'And Cheongjin has already acknowledged defeat to that butcher brat….'

Which meant he had effectively been disqualified.

That was why Namgung Sang-hyeok was certain he would be the victor of this Yongbong Gathering.

So long as Cheon Muyang was gone.

'You're dead, aren't you?'

Namgung Sang-hyeok was convinced.

After that day, even the Sword King had gone into seclusion, so Cheon Muyang was not the only one who had vanished.

'Grandfather….'

That meaningful final appearance.

The Sword King's demeanor, as though he would never return, unsettled him—but Namgung Sang-hyeok shook his head.

'I will become Clan Head and place the name of the Namgung Clan above all others.'

He would place the world beneath his feet.

For some reason, he felt it would be possible as long as Cheon Muyang was gone.

Just as he was steeling his resolve—

"Looks like you're in a good mood."

That was when it happened.

Paeng Do-hyeok approached.

Grinning broadly, as though he had caught a whiff of something interesting.

"What do you want?"

"What do I want? It's suspicious, isn't it? That butcher bastard hasn't shown his face for days."

Snort.

Namgung Sang-hyeok laughed.

"Just stay quiet."

"What do you mean?"

"There's no need to talk about someone we'll never see again."

Paeng Do-hyeok and Namgung Sang-hyeok faced each other.

Seeing the coldly sunken eyes of Namgung Sang-hyeok, Paeng Do-hyeok smiled.

"I see."

Their relationship could hardly be called good, yet in that moment they smiled as though they were old friends of decades.

"It's a shame we won't get to see that butcher again."

"I'll need the Paeng Clan's help."

"Huh?"

"You're not satisfied with the current Yongbong Gathering either, are you?"

Paeng Do-hyeok nodded.

Associating freely with people beneath his standing did not suit his temperament at all.

"There's no reason to mingle with trash like that."

"Exactly. So take my hand."

"What are you planning?"

"I'll restore the Yongbong Gathering to what it was meant to be."

"The original Yongbong Gathering…."

Paeng Do-hyeok smiled arrogantly.

A smile that assumed Namgung Sang-hyeok would also be beneath him, as was only natural.

"Cheongjin is still around, you know?"

"Why don't you focus on healing your internal injuries instead?"

"...."

Paeng Do-hyeok's expression stiffened.

He had not expected to have his own words from days ago thrown back at him.

Namgung Sang-hyeok had fully recovered from his internal injuries, but Paeng Do-hyeok had yet to completely heal the ones inflicted by Cheon Muyang.

"Ah… looks like I've got my own problems."

"So what will you do?"

"Fine. I'll play along."

"...."

Paeng Do-hyeok stood up.

As he did, he continued speaking.

"Oh, right. Did you hear?"

"...?"

"The Tang Clan's Ice Flower."

Flinch.

Namgung Sang-hyeok's shoulder twitched.

Why would she appear now?

"Turns out she was even engaged to that butcher brat from the Cheon Clan."

"...."

"And apparently the bastard broke it off because he didn't want to get married."

"...."

Paeng Do-hyeok patted Namgung Sang-hyeok's shoulder a few times.

"Did you know?"

"Shut up."

Namgung Sang-hyeok glared at Paeng Do-hyeok as though he might draw his sword at any moment.

"Ah, I was just curious whether you knew. I'll be going then."

Paeng Do-hyeok left with a grin.

Namgung Sang-hyeok watched his retreating back with icy eyes.

'Once I become Clan Head… I'll never have to deal with trash like you again.'

Paeng Do-hyeok was the second young master of the Paeng Clan.

Strictly speaking, someone who could never become Clan Head.

So while they were grouped together now as Saber Dragon and Sword Dragon, the gap between them would only widen with time.

'I am destined to become the Sword King.'

No—beyond that.

'I will become the Sword Emperor.'

Not a Sword Emperor recognized only within his clan, but one acknowledged by the entirety of the Central Plains martial world.

'And….'

Namgung Sang-hyeok's gaze turned toward Cheongjin and the disciples of the orthodox sects.

'I will surpass the swords of Wudang and Mount Hua.'

Only then did Namgung Sang-hyeok realize that the time for him to step forward had come.

Thus, channeling his inner energy, he called out loudly—

Drawing everyone's attention.

"Everyone, please listen."

"...?"

"Do you truly intend to end the Yongbong Gathering like this?"

The current Yongbong Gathering, regardless of the outcomes of the martial contests, had become a venue of harmony where everyone mingled freely.

It meant sharing tables with people one would never normally sit beside.

'Disgusting. We're on entirely different levels.'

Namgung Sang-hyeok found it revolting.

How could he possibly share a table with some nobody from an unknown clan?

It was unthinkable.

"Then what is it that Young Master Namgung desires?"

The object of his disgust—some nameless nobody—asked him that question.

'Trash that wouldn't even be allowed here under normal circumstances….'

Namgung Sang-hyeok replied without even turning his head toward him.

It felt as though revulsion alone was enough to make bile rise in his throat.

"Ending the Yongbong Gathering in a way that satisfies everyone may sound nice, but…."

"...."

"I don't believe a Yongbong Gathering like this is right."

"And why is that?"

"Someone must have endured bone-grinding training for the sake of this gathering. If everyone is treated equally like this, doesn't it instead belittle their efforts?"

"...."

Some must have strived desperately just to receive a gold invitation.

But if everyone were treated equally, how were those efforts to be rewarded?

It was sophistry—but it was persuasive.

After all, the Yongbong Gathering had always been run by stoking such desires.

"So, as the Yongbong Gathering was meant to be."

Those supporters with whom he had already spoken in advance stepped up beside him.

"I believe it should be conducted with proper order."

"Order…."

Though he called it "order," what he really meant was dividing people by rank, just as in the original Yongbong Gatherings.

Naturally, expressions hardened all around.

"What nonsense is this?!"

Someone protested.

But as if they had been waiting for it, the Namgung Clan's warriors lined up.

The sharp pressure they radiated was far beyond what so-called junior disciples could endure.

"Hk!"

This was Anhui—Namgung Clan territory.

And since the Namgung Clan was hosting this Yongbong Gathering, their numbers were overwhelming.

"W-what do you think you're doing?!"

More objections followed.

Yet Namgung Sang-hyeok remained calm.

"The host of this Yongbong Gathering is the Namgung Clan. That means how it proceeds is also the Namgung Clan's prerogative. Is that not so?"

It was blatant rudeness, but the Namgung Clan possessed enough influence to brush it aside.

Moreover, Paeng Do-hyeok and those following him stepped forward as well, echoing Namgung Sang-hyeok.

"The Hebei Paeng Clan agrees as well."

At last, Cheongjin of Wudang, who had remained silent, stepped forward to face Namgung Sang-hyeok.

"It seems Young Master Namgung wishes to see this through to the end."

"That's correct."

Namgung Sang-hyeok curled his lips into a sneer.

"Aren't we martial artists?"

"...."

Cheongjin did not deny it.

'In the end, martial artists live drunk on their own greatness, believing that strength itself is justice—nothing but trash.'

How could such people be called righteous sects?

The current orthodox martial world was no different from the riffraff of the unorthodox path.

"If you truly wish to see the end, then… I will be your opponent, Young Master Namgung."

Srring.

Cheongjin drew his sword, his eyes unlike his usual self.

No one failed to recognize the anger behind them.

"Regrettably, Daoist Cheongjin, you lack the qualifications."

"And why is that?"

"Have you not already acknowledged defeat to the Cheon Clan's eldest young master?"

"...."

"In other words, Daoist Cheongjin, you have no right to challenge me."

"Qualifications…."

Cheongjin laughed.

But it was true.

If anyone possessed the right—

It would be Cheon Muyang.

"Then I suppose someone who does possess those qualifications would be acceptable."

"Exactly. If you wish to challenge me, you must first defeat Daoist Cheongjin."

It was blatant sophistry.

Yet because the speaker was Namgung Sang-hyeok, no one dared to call it out.

Grin.

Judging that he had seized control of the hall, Namgung Sang-hyeok drew his sword.

"Who will step forward?"

Of course, there were those who did not fear the Namgung Clan.

A man in Mount Hua robes was about to step out in Cheongjin's stead—

[Observe.]

"...."

If not for Cheongjin's calm, smiling restraint.

That was when—

Someone revealed himself.

Step. Step.

It was Cheon Muyang.

"Aren't we martial artists? That's an interesting thing to say."

"...!"

Namgung Sang-hyeok's face stiffened instantly.

"H-how…?"

How are you alive?

Even knowing what the expression meant, Cheon Muyang feigned ignorance and walked toward Namgung Sang-hyeok.

"So you're saying martial artists are a bunch who live drunk on their own greatness, believing strength itself is justice?"

Snort.

Cheongjin laughed.

Because Cheon Muyang had openly spoken the very thoughts Cheongjin had only dared to keep to himself.

"H-how are you, you bastard—"

"Didn't die and came back again?"

"...!"

"So I guess I'm the beggar who showed up last year too."

The hall froze.

Cheon Muyang scratched his cheek with an awkward smile.

"Was that not funny?"

"You—!"

Whooong!

Cheon Muyang raised Cheongwang and pointed it at Namgung Sang-hyeok.

Flinch!

Like a startled frog, Namgung Sang-hyeok stumbled backward, glaring warily at Cheon Muyang.

"Getting scared already?"

"...!"

"I'm not stepping in. Honestly, isn't it ridiculous? Why would I 'challenge' someone like you?"

Cheon Muyang smiled faintly, as though recalling that day.

"Shut up!"

Namgung Sang-hyeok's face flushed red.

"That's enough, Brother."

Step. Step.

Namgung Seohee.

The sword peak of the Namgung Clan.

She walked forward.

"The treasured jewel of the Namgung Clan, Sword Peak Seohee Namgung, makes her entrance!"

Where he had been—

Hougae had returned, enthusiastically announcing her arrival to all directions.

"...!"

Namgung Sang-hyeok's face twisted into something akin to chewing filth.

"Lady Seohee has something to say to you."

Cheon Muyang raised his presence.

A warning—to any flies foolish enough to interfere with Seohee's advance.

"So no one step forward."